


One of the good ones

by Somecallmemichelle



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Confusion, Depression, F/F, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 00:39:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somecallmemichelle/pseuds/Somecallmemichelle
Summary: Kate's head is a mess. One minute she wants to cry, the very next one she wants to yell. She feels used, she feels angry, she feels tired. And she lacks many certainties in her mind, but one thing she is sure of - Max is one of the good things in her life - now if only there were more things like her --- (Hints of Marshfield)





	One of the good ones

“It can’t be easy, that’s all I’m saying…”,  And Kate wants to yell it out, that of course it isn’t easy, that that much should be obvious. She wants to howler at the one who presents herself as her friend, and she wants to kick and scream; She wants to foam at the mouth, and she wants her reply to be sharp.   
  
But of course Kate knows that she would never do any of those things. It’s just isn’t how she was raised. Besides it’s Max that’s talking to her, and Max doesn’t deserve any of her rage.   
  
A lot can be said for the plastic smiles and little snarky comments that Kate has fallen victim to lately, she feels - herself - in part guilty for what happened. How can she not? It was her decision, and it was her drink and - no matter what happened, no matter if she was tricked into going with a false pretense or not, she still went. And no matter how many times Max tells her it wasn’t her fault she can’t quite believe it.   
  


Maybe it’s punishment for her feelings. Divine intervention in a way? Kate doesn’t know if she should cry or yell out. She’s confused. Everything in her mind is fuzzy, has been for so long now. Ever since she met Max that first day.   
  
Not that she can’t separate what she feels, from how she should feel, it’s just hard - harder than it should be - and she has more pressing issues in her mind. And she can’t quite push herself to yell at Max, or at anyone really. She’s just defeated, pushed and abused and tired. All the things her mother and family warned her about and yet -   
  
It truly is hard to be a philistine, to be able to enjoy the delicate curves in the nape of Max’s neck, or the way her eyes glitter when she smiles, or even the way there’s this slight hesitation, how her mouth slowly curves upwards, before she speaks. If there’s something Kate truly appreciates about her object of desire, about the one that she met in that ill fated day, is that she’s always positive. Like a Proton, not that Kate has always paid much attention to science class but she knows that Max is like one. She never seems to doubt, question, or give up. Like she’s lived through stuff a thousand times and she knows what she’s doing.   
  
Kate is just about to go into how she would like to know what she, herself is doing with her life; How she’d like a plan, a guide to follow that’s not the one her family brought upon her - because that one has been failed, so so hard - When Max speaks.

 

It takes her a moment to catch on all the levity on Max’s voice. The way she half shrugs and does her best to make her feel better. It comes naturally to her. Not an edge to her voice, not one ounce of tension. It’s like she practiced this moment over and over. Kate would really know how she’s able to do it so easily.    
  
Maybe it isn’t easy, but that just how it seems to her. Max is practically perfect at this stuff, but then what is Max not good at?   
  
“Hello, earth to Kate, are you ok?” , Again, the same question, just more directly  asked . It has never been easy being her, and no, she’s not ok. But she’s sure that Max can’t do much more than she did to help her. And why bother pointing it out? She’s probably only running on her good will.

 

Kate attempts to smile. Attempts being the key word there, she isn’t quite sure if she succeeds, wh a t with every single doubt in her he ad multiplied tenfold. She isn’t sure if Max buys it or not, but, as much as she wishes to be able to pass all her doubts as momentary, little chimps in her armor, she isn’t all that sure that is possible.

 

She has read the messages, straight from her family. She knows what people think of her. Heck she knows her reputation, and what every action and word she has ever said has been invalidated, like it’s purely a front.

  
And then Max touches her. Kate can’t help it, she recoils at the contact. What is wrong with her? Why can’t she even be touched by the one she dares call a friend without retreating into herself? How can she prove to Max she’s fine like that? Hands caressing her cross like it is the only thing she still has as a base, tears that insist on creeping into her eyes, smile that rings untrue?

 

Max, blessed might she be, understands her mistake and too, retreats. Pushing herself away from Kate, leaving her wondering if this is it, if Max is giving up on her, like everyone else did. But Max, whether the one she imagines as immaculate and pure as possible in her head, or the real deal she has by her side, never do leave. They might be way over their head but Kate needs her, and she’d never abandon a friend.   
  
Friends - Kate cannot help but scoff at the notion. When did she have friends? She thought she did once, but is she really so starved for attention she’ll apply the title to Max, just because she’s needy? God, is she pathetic.   
  
Thoughts such as those occupy her mind, leaving her to question the validity of Max’s affection - or attempts at therefore. 

 

Does she truly deserve it? It’s hard to see it in that light. But then she’s been so badly hit by life - like a freight truck ran her over and dumped its contents on top of her. What is clarity? What is true and what is not?   
  
Should she really stay by her room, bottles hidden away, a thousand mean spirited comments tucked away in her brain, registered and stinging her? What should she try and do?   
  
“I’m sorry”, she hears herself say, though it’s hard to pin down the voice as her own, has it always been so scratchy? Always been so hurt? When did she start losing it?   
  
Max doesn’t approach, something for which Kate is glad. She passes her a tissue, and Kate briefly wonders why she would need it before realising she’s sniffing. Homework lays forgotten at one corner, as well as Max’s camera. And as she assures her that things will get better, though she can’t say when or how, Kates truly does her best to believe her. Same as she believes Max wants what’s best for her.   
  
Her feelings are a mess, her head even more, but one thing she is certain of.   
  
Max is one of the good ones. - Now if only she could find more like her. And if her head stopped aching with guilt over how she feels for her friend.   
  
But Max promises it’ll get better. And she believes her.

  
  



End file.
